Real First Kiss

My first real kiss, (the kind where we locked lips because we had tingles down to our toes and not because of Truth or Dare), was slobbery. I had my tongue back deep against my throat, like playing goalie in front of my tonsils, as his searched like a snake light around the cavity of my mouth. His tongue, a thick swab, brushed the insides of my cheeks and licked across my teeth. My eyes stayed wide open the whole time. I wanted to relax, fall loose in his arms like Scarlett O'Hara; but my best friend was watching through the kitchen window and his best friend was spot-lighting us with his truck headlights. So I stood firm, planted, rigid, and afraid. My first kiss was miserable, and so romantic.